


Saturdays (hands)

by Flavortext



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fluff, M/M, set right after s2 ep11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 04:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16256324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flavortext/pseuds/Flavortext
Summary: Spock thinks about Bones' hands. Bones gets a little (a lot) drunk (and attacked by a plant). Jim is an anxious mess who loves his Scientist and his Doctor way too much. Confessions and fluff proceed.(Aka jealous!spock needs Jim's help to get bones to stop holding hands and possibly fathering children, and also Jim and bones share a bed (and eventually Spock joins them))





	Saturdays (hands)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost / updated version of a fic I posted ~ 2 years ago, not much plot change but a whole lot of grammar fixing, I'm sure I missed some but it's a lot better than it was rip  
> As always my mcspirk work is dedicated to and a product of talks with Jason and Sarah <3

Spock found himself unable to rest. His usually calm mind was flustered, flicking from thought to thought as he tried to type up his log of the past few days events with the Capellas.

_ Doctor McCoy successfully was able to convince the woman to allow him to care for her, through means, I am unsure of. _

Spock fiddled with his sleeve, pushing away from his desk. He remembered the woman holding McCoy's hands, remarking on their texture.  _ Strange hand. And very soft.  _ Spock could easily recall every time he had felt McCoy’s hands, they were soft and gentle. Spock leaned back. He was afraid McCoy had seen his momentary lapse in control of his emotions. The woman’s remarks had caused a surge of jealousy inside him, a feeling of protectiveness. Spock could not decide if it was the human side of him or the Vulcan. 

_ McCoy delivered the child, a healthy male, in a cave discovered by Captain Kirk. The captain and I fashioned bows and arrows from the local flora for the purpose of defense. McCoy attempted to teach me how to handle the child. His hands are soft. _

Spock blinked and erased his last two sentences. He once again leaned away from the console, placing his fingers together in a steeple. 

There was a ping from his cabin door.  

“Enter,” Spock said, standing and folding his arms behind himself. Kirk sauntered in, walking over to lean against Spock’s desk. 

“You seem troubled,” Kirk said, his arms crossed but face seeming genuinely concerned. 

“I am simply reflective, Captain,” Spock responded, perhaps a little too quickly. Kirk hummed deeply. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, uncrossing his arms and standing a little taller. 

“I fail to see why you should give me an outdated earth currency for such a thing,” Spock replied. He knew fully what the statement meant, but the way Kirk’s lips parted when he searched for a way to explain amused him. “I am thinking about McCoy’s actions on Capella IV,” Spock said plainly before Kirk could speak. He saw no reason to lie about that, though he would keep the details of his ponderings secret. He did not wish the captain to draw the logical conclusion from his thoughts. He was avoiding pursuing the train of thought himself. Thankfully, his answer seemed sufficient for Kirk, who smiled and leaned back against the desk. 

“He really seemed an exceptional father, even if it was only figurative,” Kirk said. 

“Actually, Captain, McCoy’s stay on the planet and the gestation period of the Capellans would make it possible he was the legitimate father of the child.” Spock chuckled internally at the sudden widening of Kirk’s eyes. 

“That scoundrel!” Kirk laughed, shaking his head. 

“Though it doesn’t seem to be in McCoy’s character to seduce a married woman, I believe it certainly is a possibility, given the evidence,” Spock said. 

“You and I know different sides of the doctor, Spock,” Kirk said smiling. Spock crooked an eyebrow. “He has a few tricks up his sleeves.” Spock squeezed his fingers tighter behind his back and did not respond. Kirk was smiling calmly, temporarily lost in thought. 

“Is there anything else you wished to consult me about, Captain?” Spock asked as politely as he could. His thoughts were still flickering to unwanted places, and though Kirk was a distraction Spock was finding his eyes wandering to the captain's hands, visibly calloused and slightly cracked in places. Spock realized he couldn’t recall what  _ those _ hands felt like. Kirk was more cautious about touching him, usually reserving himself to a hand on the shoulder or upper arm. 

“No, no. I am glad you’re alright, I worried you were genuinely upset about the naming of the child.” Kirk said. Spock let himself give the captain a smile. 

“It does worry me that the child will grow up with a name unusual to its culture, but I’m sure he will hear stories about his namesakes, maybe he will do something to live up to them,” Spock said. 

“Well, Spock, that’s almost a compliment, don’t let McCoy hear you.” Kirk joked. 

“The doctor is surely in his quarters or the med bay, and his hearing is not nearly sensitive enough to hear us,” Spock said, causing Kirk to roll his eyes. “I did, however, intend it as a compliment. You and McCoy behaved admirably on the planet, it was a successful mission.” Spock gave a small smile. Kirk nodded, reaching over and squeezing Spock's shoulder. The Vulcan did everything he could not to lean into the touch, or take his captain’s hand in his, holding it there. It was withdrawn all too quickly. 

“I’ll leave you to rest, Spock. Goodnight.” Kirk said, heading back to the doors. 

“Goodnight, captain,” Spock responded softly. He closed his eyes, listening to the doors slide open, then closed. He let out a deep breath. 

“Computer, save log.” He said after several minutes of silence. The computer beeped softly in recognition and the screen flashed green. Spock pressed the power button, darkening the screen, and turned to his bed. It was crisply made, his side tables empty, though the drawer held a variety of souvenirs from his travels with the Enterprise and from Vulcan. Spock lay himself down on the bed, kicking off his boots haphazardly as he did. He lay his hands flat and palm down against the deep blue sheet. It was soft. He reached to the edge of the bed with his left hand and pulled the blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed up over him. It was made of a scratchy wool. Spock sighed, frustrated with himself, and ran his fingers over the different materials. 

He found he was not aroused sexually, but something in him was stirring. He kept drawing small circles with his fingers on the blankets, and his mind wandered. His imagination was usually directed towards scientific calculations or plans to get himself and the crew out of various situations, but now it drew a picture of himself, clasping McCoy's hands in his. In his mind Spock pictured resting his head against the doctors, holding his hands tightly between his own. McCoy’s breath was soft like his hands, and Spock could feel himself smiling at the picture he had painted. His mind continued to wander, and the image changed out McCoy with the captain. Spock pictured himself resting against the captain's chest, one handheld in the captains, the other resting over him, holding him there, signifying his wish to keep Kirk safe, protect him, partially from himself. Spock forced himself to leave that train of thought before he began replaying all the times Kirk had nearly sacrificed himself for the ship, the crew, or Spock.

Spock now imagined both the men’s hands, one on each of his. McCoy’s soft fingers interlaced with his, Kirk’s and his other hand interlocked palm to palm. Spock found himself drifting off to sleep with this image, and he dreamt of it, dreamt of his head on the Captain’s chest and McCoy’s forehead, dreamt of their hands and his. His doctor and his captain. 

 

Kirk had intended to return to his quarters. The fighting had been exhausting and he had a report to write. But his feet carried him to Med Bay, as they often did. He knew Bones would be there, the man hardly ever slept in his own quarters. Kirk entered, sure enough finding McCoy, his back to the door, hunched over his desk with a glass of something dark and probably very strong next to him. He hardly moved at the sound of the doors opening, only lifting his head when Kirk planted himself on the desk next to him. 

“Finished your report, doctor?” Kirk asked, taking McCoy’s glass and finishing it, much to the doctor's disdain. 

“Yeah, and I’m sure  _ you _ haven't, Jim,” McCoy said, the gravel in his voice giving away how much he had drunk already. He reached for the glass, but Kirk lifted it out of his reach. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Bones?” Kirk said, setting the glass down on his other side so McCoy couldn’t reach it without reaching across him. The man grunted and leaned back in his chair. 

“Leonard James. It’s a good name, has a ring to it.” He drawled. 

“Yes, it does,” Kirk said with a smile. “Leonard,” He started, trailing off as he thought for a moment. He was cautious, he didn’t want to risk upsetting the doctor in this state. “The child, was it  _ truly _ yours?” Kirk asked. McCoy took a moment to process Kirk’s words. Then he laughed. 

“No, no. Eileen is a beautiful woman, sure, but we hardly even talked when I stayed there before. No, she decided I was the child's father when she was delirious during the birth, honorarily, because of her husband's death. Because I was the only one she would allow to touch her.” McCoy said. He smiled at Kirk. 

“Spock and I agreed you would make an excellent father, you certainly fooled us,” Kirk said. McCoy paused, as if about to say something, then shook his head. 

“I’m afraid I’m drunk, Jim. And very tired.” He said. Kirk shook his head and took McCoy’s hand. 

“C’mon, let's get you to bed Bones.” He said. Bones tugged Jim's hand, pulling himself up and leaning on him heavily. Jim grunted but managed to steady the weight, pulling McCoy’s hand over his shoulder and using his other arm to latch around the doctor's waist. Kirk headed towards his own quarters, they were closer than the doctors and he was really feeling his lack of sleep now. McCoy took a while to realize they were headed towards another room but didn’t protest. 

“You could at least take me on a date before taking me to bed, Jim.” He slurred, stumbling a little. Jim chuckled, glad McCoy’s head was resting against his shoulder and that the other man couldn’t see him blush slightly. 

“Careful Bones, I might just take you up on that offer.” He said, hoping to god that  McCoy wouldn’t remember much of the night. He tried his best to keep his flirting with the doctor to a minimal (read: to nights like this when he was sure they would be forgotten or at least blurry in the man's mind). McCoy didn’t react though, just rolled his head down against his chest, and let Kirk manhandle him into a sitting position on his bed. 

“Damn captains privileges,” McCoy muttered as Kirk struggled with his boots. “Big ass rooms.” McCoy flopped back onto the bed. “Soft ass blankets.” McCoy kicked his foot, assisting Jim with his boot. Kirk stood, lifting McCoy’s feet onto the bed and pushing him up so his head rested on his pillows. McCoy managed to get himself under the covers himself, glassy eyes watching as Jim removed his own boots and his shirt, which was rather dirty from the dust of the planet. 

“Don’t sleep on the couch,” McCoy said softly when Jim headed for the closet where he kept extra blankets. The captain stopped dead. McCoy sleeping in his bed when he was drunk wasn’t a super rare event, and Kirk had little issue with taking a night on the couch, and McCoy had never protested it either. Though he was usually asleep by the moment his head hit the pillows. 

“McCoy,” Kirk trailed off, unable to think of what to say in response. 

“Shut up, Jim. It’s bad for your back, I don’t want you whining to Spock for a massage again.” McCoy pulled back the covers and scooted to the other side of Kirk’s bed. Kirk slowly turned, walking back to the edge of his bed.

“You better not kick, doctor.” He said, still slightly dazed. He crawled into bed, pulling his blankets up to his chin and lying with his back to McCoy. He felt a dull kick to the back of his thigh. 

“I don't, Jim,” McCoy said, chuckling as Kirk tried to kick back and missed. 

“Lights,” Kirk said. The lights in his quarter dimmed to a light red glow. 

“G’night,” McCoy said softly, closer than Kirk had realized he was. Kirk didn’t respond, simply listened as the doctors breathing slowed before slowly allowing his own to lull him into sleep. 

  
  


Spock awoke with a start. It was early for him, he usually got about six hours of sleep, but he estimated he had only been in bed for three or four hours. None the less, he found himself just as restless as he had been when he had laid down. He did a short scan of his body. At least he was no longer as flustered. He gently stood, folding the woolen blanket back down to the foot of his bed, and stripped before stepping into the shower. The explosion from the Klingons gun had covered him in a fine layer of dust and dirt, and he chided himself for sleeping before washing himself. He stood still as shower went through his preferred cycle (a minute or so of hot water and then a burst of steam to dry him). He then put on a clean uniform, folded his dirty one and placed it in the laundry chute, and stepped out into the corridor. 

It would still be a few hours till his shift on the bridge, so Spock wound his way to the cafeteria. A few people were milling about, though since the Enterprise maintained a mostly day/night schedule it was mostly people grabbing a cup of coffee before returning to their night shift. Spock punched a few numbers into the replicator and took his plate, finding a seat in a corner and eating absently. He took out his pad once he was done and finished his report. 

Spock’s pad beeped 15 minutes before his shift was to start. He was already heading towards the elevator, passing the captains corridor as he did. He considered stopping by as Kirk had a habit of sleeping 30 minutes into his shift (Spock had often threatened to disengage the snooze capabilities of his alarm), but decided not too. They were on a course to rendezvous with a cargo ship in a few days time, and there should be no problems during the trip since it was all through empty space. The captain could use an extra bit of sleep. Spock directed the lift to head to the bridge. 

Kirk, as Spock expected, is not on the bridge. Uhura and Sulu are already there, and both greet him happily. Spock nods and heads to his station. 

“There’s been a new transmission from Starfleet,” Uhura says as Spock takes his seat. Spock turns to her. “We are to head to an asteroid belt, one of the asteroids is looking like it will break away, possibly threatening a colony.” She reports. 

“The captain is still in his quarters, I will go and wake him so he can approve the course change,” Spock says, rising. Uhura thanks him and turns back to his station. Spock realizes as the lift doors close that it would be easier to simply contact the captain via the ship's communicator, but Uhura has long since guessed at his attraction to Kirk, so he can trust her not to comment on it, at least not until the next time they are alone, when she will probably tease him mercilessly. None the less, Spock heads down the corridor towards the captain's room. 

He doesn’t bother knocking, its common of him to wake Kirk for his shift and it has never been an issue for him- until he steps into the room and immediately wishes he had used the comm. 

McCoy and Kirk and snuggled together, a tangle of limbs and blankets. Both are sound asleep as Spock enters, but as the doors close behind him and the lights automatically go on, Kirk stirs. 

“Apologies captain, I should have used the comm,” Spock says stiffly, refusing to let his conscious mind reach any  _ conclusions _ about the sight before him. Kirk (who Spock notes is shirtless) sits up blearily and licks his lips (Spock deliberately crosses his arms behind himself). Kirk seems to take a moment to realize McCoy is there, one arm still thrown over Kirk’s waist. 

“Uh, hey, Spock,” Kirk says, blinking. 

“I will leave you, and the doctor. There is news from Starfleet when you can join us on the bridge.” Spock stiffly makes to head to the door, but Kirk stops him.

“Wait, shit, Spock its not-” Spock turns to watch Kirk trip as he tries to remove himself from the blankets and from McCoy's arm. “I just let him crash here- and he said if I slept on the couch my back would hurt - and I didn’t want to make you give me a massage!” Kirk stumbles over to Spock, weakly holding out his arms. Spock takes a breath, calming himself. It doesn’t really bother him, the thought of Kirk and McCoy being involved, he was more upset by the thought that he didn’t know, and deeper down by the thought that he too wasn’t involved in their relationship. But Kirk's explanation made sense. 

“I do not mind assisting you, Captain.” Spock said. Kirk smiled, still weak at the knees, and searched around on the floor for his shirt and boots. 

“You could dress in a clean uniform, sir.” Spock said as he watched Kirk sniff his dusty shirt. “Starfleet has simply ordered a course change, a meteor headed for a colony, we can reach the intercept point in time,” Spock says. Kirk sighs and drops the shirt. 

“Thank you, Spock. Tell Sulu to lay in the course, I’ll be up once I’ve showered. Kirk glances at McCoy, still asleep in the bed. 

“Should I wake him, Captain?” Spock asks. He can’t remember if McCoy’s shift starts now or at the next interval. 

“Yeah, probably, though he’s gonna have a mighty headache,” Kirk says. Spock sits gently on his bed, turning to McCoy as the captain removes his pants and steps into the shower. Spock studies McCoy for a moment. The doctor's hands are up by his head, the one that was around Jim closer to Spock. The Vulcan finds his own hand resting on it before he even considers the action. McCoy immediately murmurs, twitching but not pulling away. His eyes blink open. Spock quickly removes his hand and stands, feeling his face blush green. 

“Where ‘m I?” McCoy says blearily, kicking at the blankets tangled around him.

“Captains quarters, you were drunk,” Spock says plainly, glad McCoy had brought a hand up to cover his eyes. 

“I could tell that much. Damn it.”McCoy groans and pulls the blankets over his head. 

“Shall I stop by the med bay and prepare a serum?” Spock asks, to which McCoy groans once again. Spock takes that as a yes. McCoy speaks again as Spock heads for the door.

“Wait.” Spock stops. “‘S Jim here?” McCoy asks, muffled from under the sheets.

“Yes, in the shower. Spock says. McCoy’s lump of blankets shifts, as off he is rolling over. 

“Tell him thanks- for the bed ‘n all. I’ll meet you on the bridge for that serum.” McCoy says. Spock nods and heads out of the room. 

He easily gets the injection he needs from med bay, and heads for the bridge. The lift doors open to yelling. 

“All I’m saying,  _ Jim _ is maybe cover up a little- I don’t need to see you flaunting around!” McCoy shouts, throwing his arms up. Jim scoffs.

“I can do whatever I want- they’re my  _ quarters _ !” Kirk retorts, sitting in his chair with his arms and legs crossed. 

“You knew I was there!” McCoy cried. 

“You were asleep when I left!” Kirk said grumpily. 

“The Vulcan woke me up!” McCoy said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“The Vulcan,” Spock said as he descended the stairs down to the captain's chair. “Brought your hypo.” Spock presented McCoy with the device. The doctor sighed thankfully and takes it, pressing it to his neck. Spock glanced around the room, the helmsman and Uhura were all intently looking at their work, though Spock knew they would be drawing up wild conclusions from the shouting. 

“Captain, Doctor, I recommend you save your argument for another time,” Spock said, circling around Kirk’s chair to take his usual place when not at his station. 

“He started it,” Kirk whined. McCoy scoffed. 

“You walking around butt naked started it.” He said. Kirk started to retort but fell silent at Spock's pointed look. 

“Yes, another time, Bones. We have a meteor to stop.” Kirk pressed a button that turned on the front screens. Up ahead was a large planet with a substantial meteor belt around it. The Enterprise was approaching on impulse. Spock headed to his station and gave his usual report, normal orbit, and life signs, one large meteor breaking formation, projected to hit near a small federation mining colony. Kirk ordered Sulu to break it up with the phasors and us a tractor beam to make sure no chunks got sucked into orbit. 

McCoy left the bridge to check up on a patient, and since everything was in working order Kirk left to go get himself breakfast. Spock fiddled with his scanner, brushing up on the planet's flora, before letting his mind wander as he watched Sulu expertly maneuver bits of the asteroid back into formation. 

Spock reviewed the morning's events. Kirk had certainly been concerned that Spock would think that he and McCoy were having sex, which indicated Kirk was either uncomfortable with being perceived as attracted to men, or harbored feelings for one or both of his friends. Spock quickly decided that one of the latter was true, as the captain's actions other than this morning gave evidence that he was quite unconcerned with perceptions of his sexuality. Spock, however, could not deduce which of his later ideas was true. He also found that he was unsure which he wanted to be true. He stubbornly dismissed the train of thought. He would wait for further evidence. 

 

Evidence came rather quickly. Kirk was unusually touchy, constantly grabbing Spock's shoulder when they were on the bridge reviewing data or even just talking. Additionally, he would realize what he was doing and suddenly draw away, only to distractingly repeat the action again. Spock didn’t find it made him uncomfortable, between Dr. McCoy's persistent exams and Kirk’s usual need to keep his hands busy, he was used to touching that would be unacceptable for any other Vulcan. But the apologizing was completely new, and Spock took a chance to draw a conclusion from it. Kirk had suddenly become aware that the normal proceedings in their relationship could be perceived as romantic or sexual, and was attempting to assure Spock he didn’t harbor those feelings. However his awkwardness and the fact that he would reach for Spock every time he could contradict that. So, logically, Spock had one man he could assure himself returned his feelings. Now he only had to work on McCoy. 

Spock watched McCoy closely over the next week, looking for any sign he could analyze. None seemed to come (though he did note a slight awkwardness between him and the captain, no doubt related to their eventful night and morning). In the meantime, Spock sat down and did some research. 

Among Vulcans, polyamorous relationships were rare though not unheard of and generally accepted as a logical solution if one was close to multiple individuals and did not wish to alter that balance in their relationships. But Spock was aware it was less accepted with humans, despite being legal within the federation. Spock ran a private search on human customs in this type of relationship and made a short list. He decided it would be beneficial, and perhaps fundamental, to the success of the relationship to lay out rules before even bringing the subject up with the Captain and the doctor. He anticipated confusion on McCoy’s side and either extreme shock or anger on the captains, that he had planned all this and harbored these feelings without telling him (and without Kirk catching on). So, Spock made a short list;

  1. Kirk, McCoy, and I agree to share each other equally in this partnership, no pair shall meet excessively without the other and if one becomes jealous of a pair's relationship he will state this, and a solution will be negotiated. 
  2. Each party will state their physical and emotional needs and boundaries up front. 
    1. Spock does not wish to engage in sexual relationships until he has become comfortable with the arrangement but is not opposed to Kirk and McCoy having these relations without him, or in his presence if acceptable. Spock would also request the others agree to Vulcan style forms of affection in addition to their own.
    2. Kirk {To Be Added}
    3. McCoy {To Be Added}
  3. This relationship will not be made public unless all parties agree, and proper information has been supplied to Starfleet. 
  4. When time allows (for example on shore leave and long space travels) each individual will take a turn organizing a personalized gathering of the trio (a ‘date’). 



Spock leaned back, steepling his fingers and considering what else to add. Before he could decide on an additional point, however, his door pinged. 

“Enter,” Spock said, hastily pressing the power button on his screen. Kirk entered, sauntering over to Spock’s desk as he often did. Spock rested his chin on the tips of his fingers and studied Kirk. 

“Bones found some readings on what we thought was a plant we picked up from that last planet, he wants you to take a look at it,” Kirk said. Spock tilted his head, unsure why Kirk or the doctor hadn’t just called him over comm but stood anyways. 

“I shall assist him, thank you, captain.” Spock brushed past Kirk, smiling to himself as he felt Kirk’s eyes trail after him before the captain followed him out into the corridor. Spock asked the ship's computer to locate Dr. McCoy, who was in the botany lab and headed off. The captain trailed along, occasionally bumping Spock’s shoulder.

“I should warn you, it has some...strange effects, it seems,” Kirk said as they rounded the corner to the corridor with the laboratory. Spock responded with a raise of an eyebrow and stepped into the room. It was lined with tables, on which various plants and science stations were scattered. In the middle of the room was a large table, with a handful of vials and beakers and burners and the like, and a large potted plant resembling an earthy succulent. In front of a table, sitting on the ground, was the doctor. He had his eyes closed and a slight smile on his face.

“Doctor?” Spock asked, pausing. McCoy flicked open his eyes and frowned. 

“Spock...I needed you for something...” He slurred, trying to stand. Spock crossed the room in two strides and squatted next to McCoy. He placed a hand on his neck, relieved to find his pulse normal, though his temperature was slightly raised. 

“What is the matter, doctor?” Spock asked, tilting McCoy’s head to test the reactivity of his eyes. McCoy stared at Spock and slowly licked his lips.

“The plant.” He said, furrowing his brow as if trying to remember. “It bit me!” He said a little too loudly and suddenly. 

“Where, McCoy? I must inspect the wound.” Spock could hear a twinge of concern in his voice, even if he was sure the others couldn’t. Kirk had joined them, sitting on McCoy’s other side and resting a hand on his shoulder. The doctor seemed to think for a second, and then lifted his arm and pulled back his sleeve. Indeed, there was what seemed to resemble a set of fang puncture wounds, upper and lower, around McCoy’s inner elbow. They were not bleeding, but a cloudy blue fluid filled the wounds. 

“A poison of some kind, I suspect,” Spock commented. He stood and picked up a vial, wary to avoid the innocent looking pot, and gently as he could press it to McCoy’s arm and let as much of the liquid as he estimated he needed drip into it. “Captain, please take this to nurse Chapel, she can analyze it and make an antidote.” Spock handed the vial to Kirk. Who anxiously nodded and dashed off. McCoy watched him with his brow still furrowed, then turned to Spock. 

“Entrusting my life to a Vulcan, what have I come to?” He asked, halfheartedly. 

“I do not believe your life is in danger, doctor. You are still conscious and semi-functional. I suspect the poison acts and an anesthetic.” Spock said calmly. 

“‘S a bad one. Arm hurts like hell.” McCoy said, flopping his head suddenly over onto Spock’s shoulder. “I ever tell you you remind me of a pea?” McCoy asked from his new position. Spock turned to meet eyes with the man, both eyebrows tilted upwards. “See, you’re all green on the inside, but when you get really mad you turn green  _ outside _ too. ‘S so cute.” McCoy rambles, eyes closed. Spock says nothing. “And, you’re all hard and cold outside, but even now, you’re staying with me while I'm hurt, you care about your job, and the captain.” McCoy continues. Spock feels himself blush a little and is glad for McCoy’s closed eyes. 

“Kirk will be back soon,” Spock reported, mostly for his own sake. McCoy hummed. 

“Kirk...” McCoy hummed again. “Ya know, Spocko? I think I love Jim!” McCoy said, raising his voice again. Spock froze, but eventually nodded, knowing McCoy would have opened his eyes to see a reaction. He keeps his own eyes fixed on the wall across from him. “Ya think I got a chance, sweet pea?” McCoy says softly, almost timidly. Spock lets himself be taken aback at the nickname.  McCoy laughs to himself, taking in Spock’s slickly open mouth. 

“Doctor, I believe this plant has affected your mental state as well as physical,” Spock says, sitting back on his heels to let his legs rest more. McCoy watches him as if waiting for more explanation. Spock shakes his head and sits down, it seems Kirk would be a while. McCoy, tired of slumping against the hard table leg, spins around and lies his head in Spock’s folded lap, letting his head roll into the half-Vulcan hip. 

“I got it!” Kirk came skidding into the room, holding a hypo and nearly kicking McCoy in the head as he came to a halt. He dropped down, ignoring for the moment that McCoy was curled with his head in Spock’s lap (and damn, Kirk thought, that image wasn’t going to get out his head  _ ever _ ). He pressed the Hypo to the spot the doctor often assaulted his neck at and pressed. A familiar spraying noise filled the quiet noise, and then McCoy stirred and sat up sharply. 

“What in the hell is going on?” He asked, looking from Spock’s (strangely green tinged) face to Jim’s giant grin. “Seriously, what’s happening?” He shakily stood, his body feeling like it had taken a truck to the side, and looked around. He vaguely remembered a plant and a sting in his arm, and then...he had a vague sense he’d said something about vegetables and a squirmy feeling of unknown embarrassment in the pit of his stomach. 

 

  
  


Somehow, they’d ended up alone in the briefing room. Usually, Uhura or Scotty would have been there, but they were both busy, as the Enterprise had just gotten out of a rather tough skirmish. So Kirk, McCoy, and Spock were left seated around a large table, each typing up their official reports. McCoys was shortest, but as he stood to excuse himself to leave, Kirk stopped him. 

“Bones, if you could stay a moment, there's something I need to talk to you and Spock about. “ He said, his voice giving away something, though McCoy couldn’t pinpoint it as nervousness or excitement. He sat slowly. Spock just moved an eyebrow to show he had heard and kept on typing. 

When the other two men were done, Kirk shortened the table, whisking himself closer to them until he could nearly touch their hands, both pairs folded on the table. 

“What is it you need to tell us, Captain?” Spock asked politely. Kirk sighed and rolled up his sleeves before speaking. 

“This isn’t exactly ship's business. More of a personal matter.” Kirk started. He held up a hand to stop Spock interrupting him with a question. “There has been a series of events that I believe have changed the nature of the relationship between you, Spock, and Bones,” Kirk said. Spock and Bones met eyes, both settling on the events involving the plant a few months ago that neither of them had brought up with each other, much less their captain. “You see, I already had a few  _ inklings _ ,” (Spock blushed despite himself when Kirk said that, he knew his emotional reaction to seeing Kirk and McCoy together had given something away) “but I decided to have Sulu review the tape of the incident with the plant, purely to fully understand the drug it produces, and he came to me with some...amusing findings. To him, at least.” Kirk steepled his fingers, in his mind his role to play was done. McCoy looked cold and uncomfortable. Spock was torn and trying his best to come up with an adequate plan. 

“One of us has to say something, dammit,” McCoy said, after nearly a full minute of silence, Kirks slight smile the only movement in the room as it changed to a worried line. 

“I am having trouble coming up with the words for my...emotions since those are what the captain was attempting to unearth,” Spock said. He sighed. “If you, both of you, would permit me to perform a transference, not a full mind-meld, simply an explanation for why words escape me at this moment, I would be very thankful.” Spock reached a tentative hand to McCoy, and lay his other on the table for Kirk. 

Kirks soft hand locked with Spock’s firmly. McCoy was more tentative, simply laying his fingers over Spock’s (ironically, for what Spock was going to convey, in a Vulcan kiss, he thought). Spock smiled, closed his eyes, and let his emotions pour forth.

 

“Oh,” Kirk said when Spock took his hands back (with some resistance, McCoy had gone to gripping his fingers rather hard.). 

“Dammit, you two. Of course.” was all McCoy said, he looked completely drained, or just shocked (or, as Spock would find out much later, completely and utterly in love, and terrified because of it). 

“I am sorry if these actions and feeling inconvenience our friendship,” Spock said, wincing as he felt from their residual connection that that was the wrong thing to say. “I mean, I do not believe we can carry on as usual. I love you, both of you.” Spock quickly corrected himself. McCoy huffed, half chuckling, and Kirk was beaming, his hand on Spock's shoulder, the other reaching out for McCoys.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found @ osroshallward on tumblr, I am always down to chat about these three!


End file.
